AM, PM

chapter 7

Aiden

      "Mind explaining me what all of that was about?" she starts scowling at me once we are out of the school and on our way home.

"For the last time, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop being a jerk Aiden,” she snaps, “It’s like you forgot me for a few seconds and then came back like nothing happened."

"I've already forgotten you once, I can't forget you again."

"No, you forgot me to the point of saying 'hi what's your name?' and suddenly changed to 'hey, I'm the boy who saved your life and now I'm saving you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a person that you thought was your best friend," her voice starts cracking, she quickens her step as she speaks which forces me to follow at that speed. Plus, she's blabbering, but I let her continue.

"But she isn't your best friend because you don't exist anymore to her eyes. You don't exist to anyone's eyes for that matter!' Aiden, I'm as good as dead. We should spend our time together digging a freaking grave for me."

A smile traces my lips, but I try to hide it from her. She stops and observes the road. She suddenly turns to me as we are face to face with barely a few inches between us.

"Aiden, you can't forget me," she says her voice only above a whisper. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be sane anymore if you do.”

I pull her in my arms ensconcing my head neatly on hers. The height difference permits the position. I can hear her cry, but I don't bring it up. I let her be. She suddenly pulls her head off my chest and breathes in deeply, wiping away tear stains.

"Wow, that was pathetic of me,” she says, shame slipping from her words, running up the sidewalk “Let's go, Aiden! Hurry your ass up, I can't wait to see what your mom made for dinner."

She tries so hard to hide her pain from me and I don’t like it, not even a little bit. But for now, I'm letting her be.

-

After Layla and I had both changed our clothes after getting home, we washed our hands and ran to the kitchen table where we would be eating. My parents are startled as to why we were racing down here like children.

"I don't think I have enough food for them Dave," my mom tells my dad nervously but still jokingly.

Layla and I look at my mom with wide grins.

"I'm afraid they'll eat me too, Anna."

At that, we all laugh.

Layla and I were seated on either side of the table and my parents on either of the two other sides.

My mom brings the big steaming plate of Alfredo pasta and puts it right in the middle of the table. I can see us all trying to control ourselves. Whether it's hungry from work or school, we aren't waiting another minute for this food and that's all the time we're giving my mom to be seated.

After we had all served ourselves, usual table conversations start..

Layla speaks up first "You guys don't say grace before a meal?"

"We’re Turkish. That's not a tradition of ours. If you always did, we can most certainly..." trails off Mom.

"Oh no, no, I never said grace either. That's why I asked,” she gives me a weird look, “It's a really funny coincidence, I have Turkish ancestors too."

"No way!" I say eyes bulging with a few pieces of pasta still hanging from my mouth. I quickly cut it with my teeth letting it fall onto the plate. Looking like an idiot—congratulations, self.